


Shhh

by bloodandcream



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Hand Jobs, Horny Teenagers, M/M, mild implied crisis of sexuality, mild teen angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-12-06 04:54:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11593353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodandcream/pseuds/bloodandcream
Summary: It made Sam feel better that Cas was into it too. They were supposed to be working on a chemistry project together, but Sam had been aching to show this to Cas. To find out. If he’d push it away and laugh, or lean closer to the pages.





	Shhh

“Wow.”

Cas tilted the the dog eared and soft worn magazine to the side, squinting at the pages. On the front cover, a thick muscled guy with a mustache posed bare-chested in a pair of leather pants with handcuffs dangling from one finger.

This magazine, Sam had found tucked between Dean’s mattress and the box springs. Hidden-hidden. The shoebox of worn out porn magazines that sat on the floor underneath his bed, that was the box that was hidden-but-not-hidden, the box full of pushed out tits and blond hair and waxed bare … everything. That was the porn stash Sam had discovered several years ago, and although it held his interest for curiosities sake, it never got him worked up like the magazine Cas was holding.

The one full of buff guys with hairy chests, touching themselves and each other, so much black leather from cover to cover.

It made Sam feel better that Cas was into it too. They were supposed to be working on a chemistry project together, but Sam had been aching to show this to Cas. To find out. If he’d push it away and laugh, or lean closer to the pages.

“It’s pretty weird, right?” Sam asked, shuffling his weight from one foot the other, halfway into the bedroom and torn between taking a step closer to Cas or staying near to door to listen for when Dean came home.

“I guess.” Cas flipped the page, pink mouth in his round face falling open on a quiet gasp. He turned himself to the side, tilting his hips away from Sam.

“What page?”

Sam ended up across the room, shouldering beside Cas next to Dean’s bed with the mattress still askew on the box spring.

Peering over Cas’ shoulder, Sam saw the page that had been burned into the backs of his eyes for weeks. A slimmer guy, completely naked and bent over a motorcycle, face obscured, just the dark mess of his hair and graceful curve of his spine down to a round red-bruised butt, and there was someone larger looming next to him with some kind of wooden paddle in hand, bands of leather criss-crossing his chest and tight pants molded to the hard muscle of his thighs.

Yeah, Sam liked that one too.

The noisy spot at the bottom of the stairs creaked.

Head whipping up, Sam’s ears strained and how could he not have heard the loud racket Dean always makes when he came home.

“Shit.”

Shoving the bed back in some semblance of order, Sam pushed Cas towards the closet that was a few feet away. Dean would see them dart across the hall if they left now. Dean would know. It’s one thing for Dean to know that Sam knew where he kept his porn, but it would be completely different for Dean to know that Sam wanted to show his best friend from school.

Pulling the closet door shut barely before Dean came into the bedroom, Sam wedged himself deeper into the closet and curled an arm around Cas, clapping a hand over his mouth.

Cas still had the damn magazine in his hands.

The closet door was flimsy wood, had those slats that let it breathe and you could see a little through them, but it was easier to see out into the sunlight filled bedroom than it would be to see into the dark closet. At least, Sam hoped.

It smelled like old socks and spunk and sweat in the closet. It smelled like Dean. Like things that shouldn’t make Sam’s toes curl and his belly turn heavy with heat.

Past the narrow strip of sight through the closet door, Dean groaned and stripped off his dirty work clothes, left them in a pile on the floor.

Sam could feel Cas’ heartbeat, thudding behind his ribs, his back to Sam’s chest. Breath hot against Sam’s hand, body a taut line of rigid muscles. Easing his hold, Sam would put distance between them but there wasn’t anywhere to go in the crowded closet. Stupidly, eagerly, he was getting hard.

A breathy moan rumbled into his hand. Sam pushed harder against Cas, slotting their bodies tight together.

“Shhh,” he hissed, lips barely pressed to the curve of Cas’ ear.

The magazine clutched in Cas’ hands rustled as he shifted, ground back against Sam.

“Quiet,” Sam whispered.

Cas nodded furiously, mouth still covered by Sam’s hand. Cas reminded him of a trapped animal, twitchy and panicky and trembling all over.

Iron Maiden blared through the static rough speakers in Dean’s bedroom, loud. Sam sighed, eased his hold, grateful for the noise cover. Cas slumped back against him, dropped the magazine and raised a hand to Sam’s wrist where he still had an arm wrapped around Cas’ chest. Tugging, Cas pulled Sam’s arm down. Lower. Starched cotton of the school-uniform shirt stiff and scratchy. Cas paused as Sam’s fingers brushed the leather of his belt.

Nudging his hips forward against Cas, Sam splayed his hand right above the zipper, right over the shivering softness of Cas’ stomach. When he rutted his own hard-on against the small of Cas’ back, Cas leaned into it. Moaned quiet and warm into the cupped space of Sam’s hand.

Nervous and uncoordinated, Sam tugged at Cas’ belt, at the pants. Shoved his hand inside and found his friend as hard and heavy as he was, briefs sticking wetly where he was dripping at the tip.

“Did you already…” Sam whispered.

Cas shook his head side to side. Boldly, pressed his mouth forward and parted his lips against Sam’s palm. Tongue experimentally flicking out, teeth to the meat of Sam’s hand.

Hips bucking forward, Sam squeezed Cas’ body against him. Shorter by a few inches, softer and chubbier, Cas was malleable to him. Palming down the length of his dick, Sam wrapped a hand around it and squeezed.

A sudden sharp noise burst out of Cas, bit off when he realized, when Sam molded his hand tight to Cas’ face and shushed him.

Sam couldn’t hear anything in the bedroom. He wasn’t sure if Dean had moved on to take a shower and left the music playing, or if he was dawdling. Probably thought that Sam and Cas were out in the woods behind the house exploring, or at Cas’ place studying. Dean wouldn’t get concerned unless they didn’t show up for dinner around seven, when Dad came home.

Slowly, Sam shifted his hand along Cas’ face as he stroked with his other, teasing fingers around the crown of Cas’ dick as he pushed two into Cas’ mouth, sliding past lips that parted for him easy. Cas held his mouth open, passive, as Sam pressed in deeper over the slick curve of his tongue. As Sam started to stroke his dick again, slow heavy squeeze from base to head that shifted the softest skin of him over the hardness, pulled it away and stretched it tight, then back down, as Sam felt Cas’ dick twitching in his hand, Cas sealed his lips around Sam’s fingers and sucked.

Warm, slight pressure, tongue moving against his fingers questioningly. Sam suddenly and vividly wondered if Cas would let him put his dick there, like the women in Dean’s magazines. The men, in the secret one, they touched each other but never like that. Sam could practically feel what it would be like, with his fingers inside the softness of Cas’ mouth and his dick chafing tightly against the inside of his pants rocked along Cas’ warm body, Sam came with a wretched groan and buried his face in the curve of Cas’ shoulder to muffle it.

Hand idling on Cas’ dick, Cas pushed forward, fucked into the hole of his fist and came with a tremulous shudder down his spine as he whined around Sam’s fingers and squirmed.

Messy and loose-limbed, all Sam wanted was to sink down onto the floor and see if Cas would kiss him. With shaky hands, Cas tapped Sam’s forearm, tugged his hand out of Cas’ pants. Mumbling, “Sorry”, into Cas’ neck, Sam swiped the tacky mess off his hand onto Cas’ shirt. Pulled his fingers out of the wet-warmth of Cas mouth, hand falling to his shoulder, thumb brushing against the line of his neck. Sam could feel the vibration when Cas hummed, his weight shifting, unsure.

“Just, hold on a second,” Sam whispered.

Leaning closer to the closet door and trying to angle himself just right to see through the slats, Sam couldn’t find Dean in the bedroom and the hallway door was open. Slowly pushing the closet open a crack, he peered around.

“Okay, come on.”

Cas stumbled out, sweat shiny on his face, pants undone and blue eyes wild.

“Uh.”

Sam avoided him, picked up the magazine and folded in back together, carefully tucked it between mattress and box spring, tip toed to the hallway door and looked for Dean. He could barely hear the patter of water in the shower running, bathroom down the hall.

Waving at Cas, Sam silently urged him out and down past the bathroom, Sam’s bedroom on the far side of it. Closing the door behind them, Sam retreated to sit cross-legged on his bed, Star Wars sheets a rumpled mess at the foot of it. His own jizz was drying uncomfortably in his pants.

The bed dipped, Cas sitting down next to him, pants still undone.

“Sam.”

Sam looked up, focused on Cas’ lips instead of looking him in the eyes. Tentatively, Cas leaned forward, pressed his lips to Sam’s and he didn’t know what to do with that.

Pulling back, Cas asked, “Can I borrow a pair of pants?”


End file.
